


Just Hear Me Sigh

by Sandyclaws68



Category: Naruto
Genre: Developing Relationship, F/M, Gen, Next Generation, Or at least in crush, new feelings, teenagers in love
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-04-26
Updated: 2016-04-26
Packaged: 2018-06-04 13:58:49
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,375
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6661288
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sandyclaws68/pseuds/Sandyclaws68
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>He's had a crush on her since before he knew what the word meant.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Just Hear Me Sigh

**Author's Note:**

> Title comes from a line in the brilliant and beautiful Gershwin song _I've Got A Crush On You_ , one of my all-time favorites.

They called her _hime_ : princess. Sharingan no hime. The Sharingan princess and future hope of the Uchiha clan. It was an enormous burden to rest on such small shoulders, but she never let that sense of destiny dominate her. She was always as open, sincere, and genuine as if she had sprung from nothing.

In comparison he _was_ nothing. Of course that wasn't strictly true, but he certainly felt like it at times. Grandson of the Fourth Kazekage and nephew of the Fifth. Heir of the Nara clan and its powerful Shadow Jutsu. He was also, some said unfortunately, heir to the habitual laziness and lackadaisical attitude of his father. A certified genius, like most of the Nara men, but never really willing to do anything with it.

Shikadai was always happiest when he could spend time in the forest, tending to the deer his clan had reared and protected for generations. The antlers of the deer were prized throughout Fire country for their medicinal properties, and his grandfather had long nurtured a scholarly interest in the subject. Shikadai had every intention of following the same path; he had no interest in the political and diplomatic work that both his mother and father excelled at.

He was comfortably sprawled in the shade of a tree, studying one of his grandfather's medical texts, when a rustle in the nearby brush grabbed his attention. He dropped the scroll and pulled a kunai, gripping it tight. It was highly unlikely that an enemy would be there, this far inside the Nara Forest, but it never hurt to be prepared.

The fawn that appeared in a gap between bushes was one of those born earlier that spring. She had a distinctive patch of white fur on her left hind leg that made her easily recognizable. She also had a stubborn and willful temperament, so he had named her after his mother.

“Temari, what -”

“You gave a deer your mother's name?”

Shikadai felt his stomach clench at the sound of her voice, even before she stepped out of the brush in the fawn's wake. She wore her uniform without the chest protector, the chuunin insignia clear on the shirt's collar and the emblem of the Konoha Police on the left sleeve. The glare of the sunlight in the glade caught on her glasses for a brief moment, blinding her for just long enough. He gathered his wits and rose to his feet. “Sarada-san,” he said, inclining his head in a respectful half-bow.

She laughed and dropped down to sit at the base of the tree that he had been reclining against a few moments before. “Why so formal?” she asked, looking up at him. “You never addressed me like that when we were children.”

“We're not children anymore,” he reminded her, careful to keep hi voice as neutral as possible. He picked up the scroll he had been reading and lowered himself to sit, maintaining a careful distance between them. “Why are you here, Sarada?”

“Your father was looking for you and I told him – OH! Is that one of the medical texts that your grandfather compiled? She slid across the grass and leaned against his side, putting her hand over his and moving the scroll so she could read it. “My mother told me about these.”

Shikadai had to force himself to not flinch away from her touch. “Why -” He coughed to clear the catch in his throat. “Why was my father looking for me?”

Sarada shrugged and leaned in closer. “Something about an important announcement to be made today,” she replied, sounding unusually vague, for her. Then she looked up and met his eyes, smiling brightly when he reared back. “Why are you studying this?” she asked before a glimmer of understanding brightened her face. “Shikadai, do you want to study medicine?” He didn't say anything, which was more than enough of a reply. “You do! Why haven't you said anything about this before?”

He rubbed his nose. “It's not. . . Well, it's not exactly what one would expect, right? Nara clan heir, related to not one but two Kazekage's. . .” He released the scroll and it rolled back up on itself. “Medicine isn't exactly the super-powered ninja path that most people think I should be on.”

Something squeezed his hand, and when Shikadai looked down he saw that Sarada had not moved her hand when he let go of the scroll and was entwining their fingers together. He looked away from her, praying that she wouldn't notice the flush that was stealing up his neck and across his face.

“Well, I think it's wonderful.” he turned to stare at her, surprise overwhelming embarrassment. “I do! And nobody should be surprised by it; your clan has always been connected to medicine because of the deer, right?” He nodded and she went on. “See? Perfect fit!” she went on with a grin, and he felt a smile pulling at the corners of his mouth in response.

“So, have you talked to anybody about this? You're a little old to begin training.”

Shikadai coughed to cover up his laugh. He was eighteen, the same as Sarada, but she was right. By eighteen most shinobi were settled on the path they wanted their life to take, not just setting forth. But he had spent a couple of years in confusion, being pulled in different directions by all the expectations placed on him. Truth be told he was still being tugged around, but the confusion had long since faded.

Sarada seemed to catch a glimpse of his uncertainty. “Oh! I know who you should talk to!”

“Your mother?”

“No!” Her nose wrinkled. “At least not yet. You should talk to Iruka-san! Nanadaime-sama told me once -” She sucked in a breath and jumped to her feet. “The announcement! You father's going to kill me for not getting you back in time!” And she used their still joined hands to pull Shikadai to his feet.

 _And then he'll kill me when I tell him my plans_ , he thought to himself as he followed Sarada, their hands still clasped. “Why did you suggest that I talk to Iruka-san?”

“Well, he always listens, and always has the best advice,” was the response. “Kind of like a parent except not. Plus I heard that he kind of had the same experience of trying to figure out where he fit as a shinobi. He was nearly nineteen before he decided to become a teacher.” She smiled brightly and squeezed his hand. “So now you know you're not the only one who has been uncertain. And I'll talk to my mom; I _know_ she'll be on your side.”

“On my side enough to help me tell my parents?” Shikadai asked with a laugh. He was suddenly feeling much, much better – and more certain – about where he wanted his life to go from there. _Maybe other things I've had hopes of aren't so out of reach either_ , he told himself, watching as the sunlight glinted on Sarada's hair, highlighting some lighter strands in the coal black. His newly bolstered confidence pushed him to test the water. “Sarada?”

“Hmm?”

“Why did you come looking for me? You could just have easily ignored my father; then at least you wouldn't be missing this mysterious announcement.”

She stumbled a little bit and he tightened his hand around hers in support. “Oh, I. . .” Her voice trailed off and a hint of pink became visible on her cheeks. “I just. . . you know. . . wantedtoseeyou”

The last part was mumbled and ran together as one word, but Shikadai caught it anyway. One other trait of the Nara clan: good ears. “You wanted to see me?” he asked, teasing.

Sarada's blush intensified and she glared at the ground. “Don't make me say it again.”

Shikadai laughed, feeling so much lighter than he had earlier that day. “You like me,” he said, and not as a question. Sarada groaned but didn't reply. He took her hand and tucked it into the crook of his elbow as they walked on, now moving closer together. “That's good,” he whispered against her hair. “I like you too.” Pause. “Princess.”

The elbow that planted itself in his ribs was the last word in the conversation.


End file.
